The Reason
by F. Fatale
Summary: Tifa x Vincent. AU. He keeps his life a secret from her... and so... he is in danger of losing her. Chapter 2: Tifa and Vincent reflect on the happenings of the night before.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Oh, the things I'd do if I owned final fantasy. Sadly, I don't, it belongs to Square. My only hope is that my story is accepted and reviewed.

This fiction is my first attempt at a lemon. I hope you enjoy.

She sighed as she continued to remove her dress. This was an important night for her; yet again he did not show up. He didn't even bother to call and give her an excuse this time. No matter how lame, at least an excuse would be some indication that he cared, if only a little.

Outside, a raging storm ensued. The rain beat mercilessly on the roof, echoing in the halls of the empty mansion and pounding relentlessly on the windowpane. A flash of lightning illuminated the dark room, revealing the silhouette of the lonely woman.

'What went wrong, Vincent? Why all of a sudden did you start avoiding me? What did I do wrong?' she asked herself, hurting over his absence from the concert… and her life. One thought, one reason more than any other filled her heart with dread. 'Is it another… woman?'

She slipped on a black nightgown. It was supported with tiny straps and had a plunging neckline, accentuating her ample cleavage. Its lacy material left nothing to the imagination. Both of its sides carried splits with reached almost to her waist, exposing her slender athletic legs. Standing before the full-length mirror in her room, she brushed her long chocolate hair, using light from outside to see.

The way she felt now, it was best that she stay in the dark.

The sound of an engine drew her attention to the window. She could see a dark BMW park in front of the stairs that lead to the large doors of their home. A quick glance at the digital clock on her side table told her that it was almost two am. This was the earliest he'd been home in the past three months.

She sighed, unwilling to watch him any further, yet found herself unable to leave the spot. He stepped out of the car and ran to the door, trying to get out of the pounding rain. His last step coincided with a resounding boom of thunder, which startled him to the point that he almost lost his footing. She gasped, thinking he would fall.

Evidently hearing her gasp, he looked up to her window. She retreated a step, mentally cursing his exceptionally good senses. Another streak of lightning illuminated his face as he mouthed her name.

"Tifa."

No surprise, no fear, no contempt. Just "Tifa".

She sighed once more, resigning to meet him downstairs. There was no point in watching him freeze to death outside the door; if he were fooling around, she would have to kill him herself. She laughed awkwardly at that thought. He may be good with a gun, but she could fight with her fists.

The door opened as she neared the bottom of the stairs. For a moment, the sound of the storm loudly filled the empty rooms. It was quickly muffled once more when he closed the door. He turned on the lights, illuminating his angelic face to her.

"Why are you running around in the dark?" he asked calmly.

No worry, no fear; no apprehension whatsoever. His calm demeanour was getting on her nerves.

"Because I want to be in the dark." She answered flatly as thunder sounded outside once more.

"Tifa, I… I'm sorry I could not see the concert tonight."

She looked away, unwilling to show her disappointment. It was childish, fretting over something like that. She had a more important concern on her mind, one that she was determined to get into the open. Now.

As she raised her chocolate gaze to his, however, it seemed that he was busy looking for something. Before she could question him, he supplied her with the answer.

"Where is everybody?"

"We gave Jessie and Biggs the week off, remember?" She sighed in frustration, hoping that her voice wouldn't break. He didn't even remember what he did just the day before.

'Whoever she is, she must be doing something pretty special to get him so out of touch with his life…'

The sound of footsteps echoing off the marble floor drew her from her reverie. Vincent now stood before her.

Chocolate orbs locked with ruby as he tentatively touched her cheek with a black-gloved hand.

She felt her breath catch in her throat. Even though she had developed reservations about his fidelity, she could not resist his touch. She loved him. She knew that beyond a doubt. She allowed her eyes to travel the length of his body as his right hand caressed her cheek.

He was wearing knee-high black boots; their soles caked with mud. Wherever he had been, it was muddy. She closed her eyes briefly, banishing such thoughts from her mind for the moment. His black pants and scarlet dress shirt were soaked through by the rain, despite the long black trench coat that reached almost to his ankles.

She was then drawn to his face. Ruby eyes stared at her, appreciating her body as she was doing to him. His pale skin contrasted to his ebony locks, which, now drenched by the rain, clung to his body in a most seductive way. Perfectly chiselled lips rose into a smile she knew well, one which indicated that he had one thing on his mind.

"Well," he started, confirming her perception, "since they are gone, we should take full advantage of the opportunity."

She sighed, pulling away. "It's never stopped you before." She then turned away from him, trying to force herself to voice the question that was plaguing her mind.

She heard the sound of heavy fabric falling to the floor. He had shed his coat. Closing the distance between them, he wrapped his arms around her, deeply inhaling the scent of perfume on her neck. His wet hands were having a desirable effect on her body, and she felt as though she would melt in his arms.

"Tifa…" he whispered in his baritone voice, sated with lust. "Is something the matter?"

She groaned as his lips descended gently on her neck. All thoughts of her questions and doubts fled her mind. She rarely saw him, and desperately needed his touch, if only for one last time. "No." she responded softly.

He knew she was lying; he always knew. But he had no intention of pressing her for answers that night. He had been busy, too busy, and he feared that he was beginning to lose her.

'I have to tell her everything, eventually. I will, just not tonight.'

He regretted keeping her uninformed, but he felt it was the right thing to do then. Now he was not sure. He loved her more than anything, and the past months were unbearable without her. He too was desperate for her touch.

Her breath hitched in her throat as his hands gripped the fabric of her negligee against her hips. She closed her eyes as his hands began their slow journey up her body. He released his grip on her hips and slid his hands to her waist, then to her chest, making sure that his talented fingers touched every sensitive spot.

She moaned, resting the back of her head on his shoulder, completely enthralled by his ministrations. Her moans were punctuated by yelps of pleasure as cold fingers began to cup and fondle her breasts.

"Tifa…" he whispered in her ear as he rained her slender neck with kisses.

She felt as though her legs would give out. Since the day she first met him, he had this effect on her. Reaching behind her head, she dove her fingers into his obsidian strands. As he whispered praises to her, his lips brushed ever so gently against the shell of her ear and his cool breath fanned across her face. She needed him, and, by the hardness against the small of her back, she knew he needed her just as badly.

He pulled her away from him, and she groaned at the loss of contact. He spun her around to face him at a dizzying speed; she would have fallen had he not pulled her to his chest.

For moments they stood flush against the other's body. She shivered from the cold of her now wet back, the warmth and wetness of his body against hers, and the hardness that found itself against her lower stomach. It crossed her mind to rest her head against his chest and relish in the warmth of him, but she could not pull herself away from his eyes. His orbs of garnet locked her in place, delving into her very soul, and she knew beyond a doubt that for that night she would be lost in them.

He lowered his face to hers, never taking his gaze away. He enjoyed every moment of seeing into her pools of pure chocolate. He loved the way she looked at him. Even now, her eyes told him what she wanted, but he still needed to hear her consent. Something was coming between them, and as much as he wanted her, he would never force her. He smiled as she closed her eyes, her lips slightly parted and waiting for his kiss. Who was he to disappoint? He gently closed the distance between their lips as he pulled her body closer in a passionate kiss. He made love to her tongue, as slowly and gently as he planned to do with her body.

Too soon for either of them, their kiss ended as their lips parted for air. He found himself staring into her eyes as she turned off the lights with a command. She returned his gaze, her soft features illuminated by lightning as she said with her voice what he already knew from her body.

"I want you, Vincent…" she whispered in the dark.

He didn't need to be told twice. He scooped her up into his strong arms bridal style. A long roll of thunder drowned the sound of his steps as he ran up the stairs.

Grateful that she had left the door to the room open, he carried her straight to the bed. He laid her gently among their red satin sheets, careful not to be too rough with her. He stepped away to admire the woman who had such a firm grasp on his heart. He was going to fix whatever it was between them; for she should belong to him alone. He could not live without her.

She was his life.

His love.

His angel.

He was going to find the reason and make everything all right again.

She sat on the edge of the bed, leaving a long trial of dark-brown locks behind her on the sheets. She dangled her feet over the edge, curling her toes in the deep white carpet as he got on his knees before her.

"It's been so long… too long…" he whispered amidst the beating rain. He closed his eyes, relishing her touch as soft hands caressed his face.

She frowned slightly in frustration as her hands travelled down to his neck. She felt she was going crazy.

'I'm sure there was something…'

A shiver of pleasure raced up her spine as his hands slid under her gown and began to stroke within the nest of curls between her thighs. She hastily unbuttoned his shirt, passing her touch across his chest.

As she opened the last of his buttons, he shrugged the shirt onto the floor. He tilted his head back, enjoying the movement of her delicate digits along his well-toned chest. Each touch stirred him to his core, and he felt his erection constrict in his pants even more, but he willed the pain away, determined to make the night last.

He opened his eyes, feeling that she was now trying to undo his belt. Grasping her wrists with his hands, he raised them to his mouth and kissed the tip of each elegant finger as he massaged them with his teeth and his tongue. Finally relinquishing her hands, he stood, giving her better access to his pants.

He closed his eyes as a deep moan sounded in the back of his throat. Thunder masked the sound of his pants sliding to the floor. Seconds later, his boxers followed, revealing the extent of his desire.

Tifa locked her gaze on his erect organ. Now free from its constraint, it was almost level with her mouth. A mischievous smile graced her soft pink lips as she looked up to the eyes of her lover. Holding on to his hips, she licked the tip of his manhood.

Another groan escaped him as he felt her tongue against him. As much as he enjoyed her touch, knowing well how talented she was with her tongue, he had other plans for the night. He had deprived her for too long. That night was for her.

Taking her wrists once more, he silently bid her to stand. She did, making sure to drag her body against his tip as she stood. Slipping one hand behind her head, and the other around her waist, he pulled her against him in another breathtaking kiss, deeper and more passionate than the one before.

As they parted for air, his gaze lingered on her eyes, heavy-lidded and darkened in passion, and listened to her erratic breathing. One strap of the gown had slid off her shoulder, revealing a creamy breast almost to the nipple. As a streak of lightning illuminated the dark room she was the most erotic image he had ever seen. He wanted to take her right then, but he maintained his self-control.

As his lips met hers once more, her groans became louder. He smiled inwardly, aware that it was because the only thing between her core and his desire was the thin cloth of her nightgown. He slipped off the other strap.

She trembled with the sensation of the fabric sliding down her skin. The initial coldness from the exposure was immediately replaced by the warm sensations of his touch. Her legs finally gave out as he leaned onto her, causing both to fall onto the bed. After he rose himself enough so that he would not crush her, she pulled herself further onto the bed, a gentle tug on his bottom lip by her teeth bidding him to follow.

There was a reason why they had a king-size bed.

She released his lip as he began to follow. He crawled slowly to her; tasting and touching every part of her he met along the way with expert hands and tongue. As he tasted her most secret place, she fisted the sheets, gasping his name in half-breaths. At her breasts, she entangled her hands in his hair, begging him to end the torment.

She trembled with anticipation as his face finally became level with hers. His dark hair fell around them like a curtain, now almost dry from their heat. She whispered his name as she spread her legs, awaiting the time of their unison. His lips met with hers and she closed her eyes, enjoying his nearness to her.

He did not make her wait for long.

Her breath caught in her throat as he lowered himself into her. The feel of her body stretching to accommodate him was exhilarating to them both. Dark lashes fluttered open as she looked at her lover, whose gaze was in turn fixed on her face as he moved within her. The pleasure of release began to build within her, waiting to get out. She closed her eyes tightly, screaming his name as she fisted his ebony tresses.

When he wasn't showering her with kisses, he watched her face, pleased with himself that he could make her writhe beneath him with her face contorted in pure ecstasy. He could feel his release coming, but he willed himself to go on, he could not stop until she was satisfied. He increased the speed and depth of his strokes, again pleased that she matched his pace, screaming his name and gasping sharply at each thrust.

'How could I have lasted three months without this?' he thought. If he went for nearly so long again, he feared he would surely die. If he had his way, they would never leave the bed again. He pinned her hips to the bed as he went harder and deeper still. Her name was a mantra to him.

Her cries were the thunder; he was the lightning.

All that she knew was the man above her.

His long black hair.

His hot breath against her body as he panted her name.

His lips that descended constantly on hers…

and the friction.

Oh sweet friction!

He felt her tighten around him as she screamed his name to the night. He willed his body to hold on as she quivered with pleasure beneath him, but to no avail. He too shouted the name of his lover to the night as he released his seed within her womb. Thunder sounded, as if in response to his call. Unable to support himself any longer, he collapsed beside her as he withdrew.

She smiled at him with a heavy-lidded gaze as he massaged her cheek. His last words suddenly snapped her back to the reality she was in before his arrival as sleep claimed him.

"I love you Tifa, I always will."

She felt tears come to her eyes as the rain outside began to subside.

'If he truly loves me, why does he leave me alone?'

'Why would I be afraid that he has someone else? Why do I find it so easy to doubt the one who says he loves me?'

She let the tears fall, grateful that he was asleep. To her, the worst part was that she was not mad. She wasn't angry at him for putting her in the position where she could entertain the thought, and knew well that she wouldn't hate him if she discovered that it were true.

She could never hate him.

"I love you too, Vincent. Always."

A/N. I've already uploaded this story on other sites under the name Femme Fatale or Femme Fatal. To those of you who have seen this story elsewhere, rest assured that although it is not complete, I am still alive and working on chapters.

Looking forward to responses! Drop me a line!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own a darn thing. Not even this computer.

It was Tifa who awoke first.

Dark lashes fluttered open as the alarm went off. Through practice and precision, she turned it off in an instant; the noise was enough to give a headache.

She sat and stretched, welcoming the golden rays that began to filter through the red and white curtains at the window. For some reason, she had a lopsided smile on her face. This was the best sleep she'd had in months!

Movement and a low murmur drew her attention to the man on the other side of the bed. She looked at him in disbelief. Long ebony locks spilled across the pillows obscuring a pale face.

'It wasn't a dream?'

She turned and laid on her side, propping on an elbow resting her head on the palm of her bent arm for support. She reached over to him, brushing away the obsidian strands that blocked his face. For minutes, she watched as he slept. It was, after all, the most she'd seen of him in a long while.

Vincent slept on his back, with one arm bent so that it rested on the pillow above his head. The other rested against his stomach. She watched the rise and fall of his partially exposed chest with mild fascination as she listened to him breathe. As her gaze travelled to his face, she sighed inwardly.

To her, he was perfect. His skin was a bit pale, but that was of no consequence. His brows were not so thin as to be called feminine, but not too thick either. His eyes, even when closed were beautiful, accentuated by long lashes and a slight slant which gave a hint of Wutian heritage. When open, his unusual ruby depths could see right into her soul. His nose was neither thin nor big, ending in a definite point. His lips…

She shook her head slightly to clear these thoughts. There was no point in dissecting him. He was perfect; no statue or painting she had ever seen could even begin to compare to the beauty of the man that slept before her. He was an angel.

A slight frown worked its way up to her lips.

'He could have anyone he wants…'

'Any woman he wants…'

She turned her back to him, sitting up and throwing her legs over the side of the bed. She couldn't wake him.

"I'll wait until he wakes up. After all it's only fair, I guess, if he really wasn't fooling around." She looked out the window.

"Right?"

'_What if he were fooling around?'_ a voice in her head asked her.

"Then I'd find out." She whispered in response.

'And? So? Then what?' 

She sighed sharply. "I don't know!"

The sound of Vincent shifting brought her back to her senses.

She slapped her forehead. "I'm such an idiot, talking to myself." She stood, donning her white bathrobe, and went to the bathroom.

The scuffle of feet and the rustle of grass were heard as he approached the cliff face.

'The things I have to do…' he thought as he continued up the steep hill, adjusting the heavy bag on his back. He was walking through a dense forest, the tall grass slowing his progress as he journeyed. Even here he could hear the sound of waves crashing against the rock far ahead and below.

The trees began to thin until he was standing in a small field of grass that extended to the top of the cliff. Scanning the area quickly, he laid on the ground and crawled toward the woman who already laid at the edge, watching some event far below with binoculars.

The full moon hung with a veil in the starless sky as he reached her side. A strong breeze, as would be expected so close to the sea, whipped the long grass and her short blond hair. He could feel his ponytail pulling in the breeze behind him. Like he, she was dressed in camouflage, in case anyone were to be watching the cliff. For moments both were silent as they lay in the grass, the strong smell of salt assaulting their noses as the sound of rustling grass and crashing waves filled the air.

"You're late." She said simply as he donned his binoculars.

"I was held up." He responded.

The cloud that partially blocked the moon continued its drift across the sky, allowing the two below to take full advantage of its light. It reflected off the waves, shining in slivers of silver like a million dancing Christmas lights. A beach started at the base of the cliff to the right, its silvery line stretching north as far as the eye could see. He sighed, thinking of someone who would love to see such a pretty sight.

He missed her, and he knew he was hurting her at this very moment.

'Soon,' he thought as the target came into view, 'soon.'

A small boat sped up to the beach. Two men were aboard, their long black hair blowing in the night breeze. Another figure awaited them on the beach, holding a briefcase. Even with binoculars his features were indiscernible, but from his height it was likely a man. His long black trench coat and broad rimmed hat hid everything from view.

The boat stopped at the shore, its two occupants splashing through shallow water as they approached the third. The taller of the two walked a few steps behind, keeping one hand in his coat at all times. A large mole marked the centre of his forehead.

"The bodyguard?" the man on the cliff asked.

"Yes," his companion responded. "I'll handle him."

He turned his attention to his target as they aimed their sniper rifles. The shorter man walked with his back slightly hunched, no doubt from age. Thick black-framed glasses covered beady black eyes. His mouth was twisted in a crooked grin.

Through his rifle's scope, he saw the two men meet, shaking hands as the bodyguard looked on. The third man handed the suitcase to the other in exchange for a small package.

He aimed for the older man's head.

It was time.

The cross in his scope shifted slightly to account for the wind and distance as slender fingers brushed the trigger.

"Hey!" a voice called from the trees.

He started as he pulled the trigger. Ruby eyes widened in shock. Had he missed? Looking through the scope, he saw his target go down.

"Shit!" the woman cried as she abandoned her rifle at her side. Turning on her back, she drew two Desert Eagles and began firing at people as they came from the trees. A small ball of dirt hit him in the face as he turned to his partner.

"Elena?" he asked in concern.

She continued to pick off whoever came through the trees. "Damn it Valentine don't worry about me!" she shouted.

Vincent turned again to the beach. The man he shot was gone, most likely in the boat that was now speeding away. He saw two men aboard, one standing, the other sitting. The third man was nowhere to be seen.

He began shooting at the vehicle, lest it get away. He assumed a bullet must have hit the engine, for the boat exploded into a shower of splinters as red and orange flames licked at the dark sky.

The gunfire on the cliff ended.

"Elena?" he asked as he scanned the sea and beach for survivors.

"I'm fine," she breathed from beside him. "Did you get him?"

"See for yourself." He stated, giving her his binoculars. Hers were destroyed in the shootout.

"Where's the third guy?"

"He got away. The other two were on the boat."

"Let's get down there."

They ran down the hill with guns drawn, in case any more men lurked in the forest. After making their way to the beach, they split up and began searching for the trio.

The breeze was somewhat weaker than on the cliff, but was still quite strong. Now at the shore, one could tell how rough the water really was. The sea was littered with jutting rocks, pointed like dark thorns against the sky. The water washed viciously against the shore, settling higher and higher as high tide set in. He frowned. It would take an expert to avoid hitting the rocks; it was possible they crashed trying to get away.

Elena ran up to Vincent as he knelt to pick up something.

"He's gone. Could be anywhere. But at least the real threat is gone." She paused to breathe. "I already called cleanup."

She supported her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. "What's that?" she asked, motioning towards his hands.

"You don't wanna know. Trust me." He said, turning away so she could not see.

"Don't mess with me Vincent! Show me the damn thing!"

He sighed, turning so she could see. In his hands he held a left arm. It appeared to be blown off midway between shoulder and elbow. The hand was gloved, the torn remnants of black sleeves hanging on the arm.

"Holy shit Vincent!" She stood weakly, cringing at the sight. "I gottta get a smoke."

"I thought you quit?" he asked, slightly amused at her unease. In their line of work death was commonplace; he himself had dealt with much worse.

"Well," she added, disgust written plainly across her face, "I just started back."

"Congratulations." His smile widened as he pointed to the burning ashes that still floated in the air. "There goes your lighter."

"You're sick."

Crimson orbs opened for the first time that day. Vincent sat up on the bed, scanning the room silently as his mind cleared the memories of the last mission. He smiled. Messing with the new people was fun.

His mind drifted back to the present.

'It's been a while since I last woke in this bed…' When he arrived home for the past few months, she would already have been asleep. Rather than risk waking her up, he took to sleeping in the guest room. He would never be home by the time she woke up.

A smile crept to his lips as he recalled the 'events' of the night before.

'It's been a while since I'd last done that too.'

He closed his eyes, reliving the last night in his mind. It began having a very… interesting… effect on his body, so he looked towards the other side of the large bed…

'She's gone?'

The sound of water running reached his sensitive ears. She was in the shower.

His smile turned into a full grin.

'She's in the shower…'

"Hmm…" he murmured, stroking his clean-shaven chin, "this has certain… possibilities…"

The smile fell from his lips as his plans for the morning filtered into his mind.

"I wonder if she'll hate me…" He hung his head low as he stared at the carpeted floor, hiding his features behind a curtain of black silk.

"What am I saying? Of course she'll hate me. Who wouldn't?" He sighed. "I don't deserve her, any other woman wouldn't have put up with my constant absence." He was almost at the concert's venue when he remembered the job. He sighed once more.

'And they definitely wouldn't put up with my _reason_ for the absence.'

He slipped his feet into a pair of bedroom slippers, spying the boxers he discarded the night before.

'She didn't even complain. Not even a question, and last night…'

"_I love you Vincent, always."_

"You have the right to know Tifa. In the next month, I swear I'll make things right."

He walked to the bathroom door, adjoined to the master bedroom, and raised his hand to knock.

Before he hit the door, however, his cell phone began to ring. He frowned. It was his 'special' cell phone. He sprinted to his pants and answered on the third ring.

"_**I'm supposed to have the next month off!"**_ he shouted into the device.

"Relax, man, is that any way to greet a comrade?"

Vincent narrowed his eyes as a deep frown etched itself on his face.

"Cloud?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you call me? What if Tifa had answered the phone?"

There was a noticeably long silence on the other end of the line. "She's still upset?"

Vincent sighed audibly. "I don't know, but she avoids talking about you."

"That happened three years ago!"

"Yes, right before we met. But remember Cloud, you left her for another woman."

"Yeah but… Aeris is…"

"I don't really care!" Vincent snapped. "Tifa and I have something to resolve and the last thing I need is for her to be reminded of you!"

"Ouch… I guess you're upset too. Look, I didn't call to be shouted at."

"Oh?" Vincent raised a dark eyebrow in question. "Then you called for an _actual_ reason?"

"Ha ha. Very funny Valentine. You never gave in a report of what happened last night." He laughed. "By the way, Elena says you're sick."

Dark brows furrowed in frustration. "Darn, forgot about that."

Cloud nodded. Then, realising Vincent couldn't see him, spoke.

"Yeah, so you better get your butt over here and do it before you start sipping from coconuts. Rufus is pissed enough as it is."

A smirk formed on Vincent's handsome face. "Then I guess you'll have to do without me."

"What? Did you hear what I just said?"

"I heard you Cloud." He sighed. "I'll give my report, then I'm gone. I only have a month to fix things. I'm not wasting the opportunity."

"Fine, apparently they sent a guy to replace you for the time being from the Northern Continent. You know, an unfamiliar face."

"Ok… good." Vincent responded softly.

"So, Vinny, what's the prob with…"

"Goodbye Cloud." He cut in as he turned the phone off. He looked across the room to the bathroom door. "Sorry, Tifa." he said as he ran out the room.

Tifa closed her eyes, leaning back onto a wall in the shower as she pondered over the night before…

Finishing the last notes of her song, she bowed to a booming applause. She smiled and waved at the audience as she walked offstage. Despite the calls for encore, she was too tired and depressed to go onstage again.

Throughout the entire song she searched for him.

The one person she needed most was not there.

Again.

"Tifa!" a voice called from somewhere in the distance.

"Tifa?" The voice was becoming clearer.

"Huh?" she responded, realising she had just been spoken to.

The Wutian woman who stood before her was slightly younger than she, with shoulder-length black hair pulled into an elegant bun. Dressed in jewellery and a royal blue evening gown, one would never guess that it was the same energetic girl who loved getting herself into trouble and dancing the hokey pokey and had an addiction to all things cute and fuzzy. She looked almost… dignified.

"Tifa, that was great! I'm gonna make a lotta money outta you!"

Tifa sighed. More than anything else, her manager loved money.

"Yuffie, don't you mean we?" she asked to the girl who began to jump up and down excitedly before her as she rattled on about her plans for her newest cash flow.

'So much for dignified,' Tifa thought as she watched her friend.

"I wanna boat, some ponies…" she blinked, looking at Tifa as though she appeared out of nowhere. "Oh yeah, our money, whatever." She said dismissively before she went on.

"Oh yeah, I can't wait to show you off at my party tomorrow!"

Tifa smiled as she watched Yuffie's excitement. Her smile faded as her mind drifted back to a raven-haired businessman. She ran to her room, trying to hide her tears from Yuffie.

It began to rain.

She stumbled through the door to her room; the world around her a blur of colours due to her tears. None of the other times were like this. She took disappointment in stride, even when she wasn't told why. She never complained. But this time was important to her, and she reminded him of it everyday; he had promised to come, promised that he'd be there to support her.

She sighed. 'I guess I should never take a promise sent by text seriously.'

'But is was from him…' 

'_He promised that he'd never hurt me…'_

She fell onto the floor, all her worries weighing heavily on her shoulders as she broke down in tears.

Minutes later, Yuffie entered the room to find her friend in tears on the floor. Tifa sat with her back to the door, and did not realise she was not alone until a slender hand landed on her shoulder. She looked up as Yuffie sat in front of her, sniffling quietly as she hugged her.

Yuffie held her close, allowing her to cry her heart out on her shoulder. She had never been more grateful to Yuffie; no matter how immature she may be at times, she was always ready to help those that mattered to her. She was her support after the first time, and she knew her friend would stick by her if this time came to the worst.

"I am an idiot," she sniffed. "I actually believed he was coming."

"Hey Tifa," she said softly, "maybe he has a good reason this time."

Tifa sighed as she pulled away from her friend. "He's never had a good reason before. He's hardly ever given a reason." She wiped her tears on the back of a hand.

Yuffie reached to a nearby table and retrieved a small packet of tissues, handing it to her friend.

"Thanks," Tifa whispered, taking the packet. "I feel as though I don't mean anything to him anymore." She sighed. "When we were dating, I never asked for anything…"

"I know…" she responded softly.

"I know you didn't like that. You think that I should've made him work harder for it. But I don't care for material things. All I want is him. All this…" she waved a hand at the room, full of posters and expensive jewellery, clothes and cosmetics, "all this means nothing without him. I…" her shoulders began to quiver as she put a tissue to her eyes. "All I can think is that I've done something wrong, and I don't want any of this if I can't have him."

"Don't blame yourself Tifa. Don't talk like that. You tried to make time for him, remember? He's never home." Yuffie sighed, a sad thought forming in her mind. She opened her mouth, but stopped before voicing the thought.

Tifa was oblivious to the action as she stared at her hands, but had the same thought. "Maybe he's fooling around." She sat silently for a few moments. She looked up at Yuffie, her face streaked with tears that ruined her makeup. "What's wrong with me Yuffie? Why do I have such rotten luck with men? Why do I always believe their lies?"

"Hey, we don't know that. He could… just be a workaholic." She sighed. "Why not ask him? Confront him face to face Tifa, and find out the reason."

Tifa closed her eyes, taking deep breaths as she tried to stop crying. "You're right. Crying here is just pathetic. I have to confront him. I'll do it the next time I see him. Thanks Yuffie."

Yuffie smiled weakly, standing as she pulled Tifa to her feet. "That's what friends are for. Let me take you home. You're in no condition to drive."

Tifa nodded as she was led outside the room.

"By the way, I think I'll clear all your appointments for the next few weeks, and give you some time to relax."

"But…"

Yuffie shook her head. "No buts. I won't let you try to drown yourself in work and avoid this. Besides, it won't do my wallet, or you any good if you suddenly had a nervous breakdown." She said with a grin.

Outside, the light shower shifted into a torrential downpour. As Yuffie drove through the dark streets, thunder boomed throughout the heavens as lightning illuminated the sky.

She cried all the way home.

Dark lashes fluttered open and chocolate irises looked around the room. Tifa sighed as she turned the water off.

"I guess it's time. If he isn't up by now then its time for a wakeup call."

Tifa left the bathroom to hear an engine starting. Running to the window, she watched as Vincent's black BMW raced away from the house.

She sat on the bed, her elbows on her knees as her hands cupped her face.

'So much for confessions. I guess things are back to normal now.'

The phone began to ring. She dove to the other side of the bed and answered it, hoping that it was her husband calling to explain his rapid departure.

'_Stop it!'_ her mind reprimanded her sharply.

"Hello?"

"Hi." came a baritone voice as smooth as velvet. " Long time no see Tifa."

She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp. "It's you? It's really you! I don't believe it… you have to give me your address so I can see you!"

"I'm at my house. Where else would I be? Don't come now though, I have some… business, to attend to. Why don't you come by for lunch?"

"Sounds good. See ya then!"

"Yes," responded the caller as he hung up the phone. "I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

A/N Ah! Suspense! What is Vincent really up to? Who is Tifa's friend? What about the strange men that Vincent and Elena were sent to kill? Who's coming from the Northern Continent? I'll give you a clue. Anyone of significance in this story will come from the original FF7's universe.

R&R? You know you wanna. Reviews are to writers what new chapters are to readers. Thanks to all who reviewed!

Ok, so not much happens, but you get some clarification in this chapter. Part 2 will hopefully be posted soon.


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